


From Night To Morning

by Birdie_Lo_Green



Series: 31 Day Prompt Advent by dreaminghour [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, F/M, Getting Dressed, I 've thought about Snape's buttons too much, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24443938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdie_Lo_Green/pseuds/Birdie_Lo_Green
Summary: Some bedroom theatre featuring my favourite Hogwarts professor and the girl with all of the answers to his questions.Far from one of my ships, written entirely for a friend, and yet not difficult to leave open enough for anybody to imagine being the student in question.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Series: 31 Day Prompt Advent by dreaminghour [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765384
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	From Night To Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreaminghour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminghour/gifts).



> This was written as part of a 31 Day Prompt Advent. Created by my friend and fellow writer @dreaminghour for December 2019, each prompt was a random photo and a word. Both have been included at the end of this prompt.

“Only a bride has quite as many buttons as you,” she said, hands at his waist as she closed the last of them. His jacket fastened at the front from neck to hip and the sleeves from wrist to elbow. Even his slacks had buttons and ended in a trio of glossy black ones. He was slow to open up in every respect. Looking down at her with a fond expression, he said:

“I do tend to spell them all closed with-”

“Don’t.” Her hand pressed his mouth closed and though he could have completed the spell non verbally, he allowed her to continue. “I enjoy doing them for you. There’s something almost meditative about it and well...it does complete your transformation.”

“From what to what?” he asked, pulling on his cloak and fixing it until it fell how he wanted.

“From night to morning,” she said, looking around him to see his reflection in the looking glass, “From  _ lover _ to professor. From naked man to  _ billowing _ victorian.” His mouth twitched. Then he turned abruptly, wrapping her in the folds of his cloak and lifting her into his arms. Bare feet dangling, he carried her across the room and dropped her into his most comfortable armchair.

“Were I to do the same,” he said leaning to retrieve discarded items of uniform, “And pull up your damn socks and buckle your shoes it’d be considered something of a perversion.” She laughed under her breath and uncrossed her legs, feet extended towards him with a grin.

“How could a man who dresses like a vicar be suspected of any such depravity?” 

“I’m suspected of plenty of wrongdoing,” he sighed, kneeling to dutifully slip on her grey socks and black mary janes. Pressing his head against her legs, he said: “What I feel for you...it leaves me open.” Taken off guard by the admission, her hands hovered over his hair. Danger hung in the air. Each day she expected it to come down upon them like the morning post.

“Not a chance,” she whispered, caressing his head once before he drew back to look at her, “You’re too tightly buttoned for anything to get in. “ She joked in efforts to be light hearted, to ignore the threats that could come from any direction. “Only thing you’re at risk of is  _ gaposis _ .”

“Gaposis?” he asked, presenting her with the last of her things.

“A gaping placket,” she informed him, matter of fact and he laughed, “My gran has a collection of sewing patterns from the 50’s and a bunch have these terribly misogynistic adverts in them about women bursting the seams of their clothing to the point their men’s eyes go wandering. Apparently the solution to their problems was just a handy little slide fastener.”

“A slide fastener?” he asked again, because he knew she loved to answer questions.

“A zip. Were you to ever get one it’d be over. I  _ love _ your frock coat and slacks, your cravat.”

“Zips cater to convenience and that’s never been my prime concern. You for one are entirely troublesome.” As he spoke, her bag tipped over, spilling small items across the floor. Bending to gather them, he held one up for inspection: “Is there a reason your  _ bag’s  _ full of pine cones?”

“I’m going to do some crafting with the first years,” she informed him, “Making garlands and wreaths, tree ornaments and things. Head Girl duties. The dungeon could do with some-”

“If I find a single pine cone in my classroom, I’m putting you all in detention.”

“Of course, sir. See you then.” She reached up on tiptoes to kiss him, a hand at his sleeve and it was long after she’d left that he noticed one of the buttons at his cuff had been slyly replaced with a miniature birch pine cone. If all he risked losing was buttons...

Of the boys he was charged with protecting, one suspected he was out to steal his glory whilst the other assumed he was a spy working for the enemy. One of them was right and the other was going to blow his cover. By the time the year was over, the girl would hate him and his buttons too and there was nothing he could do, but go along with what he'd agreed to.

**Image** :

**Word** : gaposis (gap in a row of buttons or snaps)


End file.
